


Spatial Perception

by spazzula (razorsharpquill)



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Between Episodes, Episode Tag, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-16
Updated: 2014-08-16
Packaged: 2018-02-13 10:44:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2147757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/razorsharpquill/pseuds/spazzula
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The first time I met Carson Beckett, I was wearing a blood pressure cuff and had a thermometer sticking out of my mouth..."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spatial Perception

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 'five rooms' challenge at stagesoflove@LJ, with each section set in a different 'room'. First three ficlets are tags for Season 2 episodes, so beware of spoilers; _Infirmary_ for 'Seige Part III', _Gate Room_ for 'Duet', and _Balcony_ for 'Allies'. _Mess_ and _Bedroom_ are set at intervals afterwards. All blame still goes to [](http://chasingkerouac.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://chasingkerouac.livejournal.com/)**chasingkerouac** for talking me into doing this.
> 
> Originally posted [HERE](http://spazzula.livejournal.com/13077.html), June 2006.

***

_I. Infirmary_

The first time I met Carson Beckett, I was wearing a blood pressure cuff and had a thermometer sticking out of my mouth.

Very attractive, Laura.

The infirmary was a veritable madhouse, with nurses and medical staff running around in all directions, many of them still tending the wounded from the Wraith siege. I don't know whose bright idea it was to start bringing us in off the _Daedalus_ that soon after a major defensive effort -- especially since we all had to pass medical quarantine and suffer through the standard physicals before we were cleared to wander around the city. Atlantis scuttlebutt said there'd even been a shooting in the infirmary itself not twenty-four hours before; a Marine officer taking a shot at the chief medic, of all things.

I'd waited my turn on the _Daedalus_ with all the rest, and finally sat on a gurney, enduring the tedious round of tests for my physical, when the curtain was pulled aside to admit the doctor on duty.

Given the carefully controlled chaos around us, I'm surprised Carson bothered, really. There were a million other things on his mind at the time, every one of them more important than greeting the new recruits from the _Daedalus_ , but he still took the time to introduce himself to each of us. I knew from the outset that this expedition was international, but it still surprised me when he said, "Lieutenant Cadman, then?" in a soft Scottish accent, and smiled at me, blue eyes warm and encouraging.

I'm pretty sure I nodded, but you never know.

The rest of the very brief interview was a bit of a blur -- I wasn't really paying attention, to be honest. I answered his questions, mostly about drug allergies and past medical history, and made a couple of jokes that were probably entirely inappropriate given recent circumstances in the city. It wasn't until Carson handed my chart back to the nurse and stood to leave that my brain actually started functioning coherently again.

"Hey, Doc?" I asked, stopping him before he could duck out past the curtain.

He paused. "Aye?"

"Is all this normal?" I asked, waving a hand around to indicate the insanity around us. "The Wraith, the last-second escapes, the crazy scientists faking nuclear annihilation?"

Carson grinned. "It happens -- you'll get used to it, eventually. Me? I'm not there yet." He chuckled, and shook his head slightly. "Welcome to Atlantis, love," he said wryly, and then he was gone, moving on to the next patient.

I sighed and tilted my head, still eyeing the curtain. "God bless the Pegasus galaxy," I muttered appreciatively, mostly to myself.

Hey, it made the nurse laugh, at least.

***

_II. Gate Room_

I got the call for a mission at 0800, and by 0900 we were assembling in the gate room. It wasn't my first time off world -- I'd been to P3X-782 with Major Lorne's team a couple of times now, so the thrill of exploring the Pegasus Galaxy via stargate was starting to wear off. Still, it was surreal how activity didn't even pause around us, the control room bustling overhead.

Colonel Sheppard was already there, as were Major Lorne, Sergeant Curtis, and two Marines I hadn't met yet. There was also a petite woman hovering between Lorne and Sheppard; Teyla, probably -- I'd heard rumors. I nodded at them as I grabbed my vest and started checking my gear.

"I get dragged out of the questionable safety of the city on a regular basis, Carson, it's not going to kill you to go off-world." The voice behind me was clipped and biting, perpetually impatient.

Ah. Doctor McKay. Like I said -- I'd heard rumors.

"I've yet to hear a reasonable explanation for my presence on this particular mission, Rodney," Dr. Beckett muttered. It really wasn't fair for one man to have a pleasantly lilting accent _and_ devastating blue eyes. He didn't sound particularly pleased right now, though, and I snuck a glance at them from behind my P90.

"Wraith, _bad_. Cullings, _bad_. Injured survivors, _bad_ ," McKay fired back. "Doctor, _good_. It's not like you've never been off-world before. You did just fine on Hoff--"

"--Half the population died from that vaccine," Beckett answered darkly.

"Their own fault," McKay huffed. "Besides, if I have to get shot at this time, you do, too."

That wasn't particularly comforting at all, but I'd never heard McKay described as 'comforting'. Well, Katie Brown could be complimentary, but she was locked up in a botony lab all day long, I was reasonably sure her sanity was slipping. But even _Katie_ had never described McKay as 'comforting'. And that wasn't helping Beckett relax at all just now.

"Don't pay any attention to McKay, doc -- he's just one of those people who likes to share misery," I spoke up.

"I'm sorry, do I _know_ you?" McKay snapped.

"Lieutenant Laura Cadman," I introduced myself. "And you're Dr. Rodney McKay -- your reputation precedes you."

"Lovely, I'm flattered," McKay said sarcastically. "And I suppose you know what we're doing here, lieutenant?"

"Standard recon, provide assistance as needed." I grinned impishly at Beckett. "In and out, check for survivors and head home -- no sweat, doc," I assured him.

"That's what they said last time," Beckett grumbled. "And I ended up playing bloody Androcles."

I must've skipped that mission report. Damn.

"Don't worry, Carson -- Cadman's going to be watching your back this time," Colonel Sheppard jumped in, smiling benignly at Beckett.

"Sir?" I lifted my eyebrows questioningly.

"Three teams of three -- Curtis and Tyler with me, Teyla and Harper with Lorne, Beckett and McKay with you," Sheppard said smugly.

"Yes, sir," I nodded, clipping my P90 securely to my vest.

I caught sight of McKay and Beckett beside me, both looking perplexed. "We're being punished," McKay muttered darkly.

"I don't know about that," Beckett disagreed, and shot me an amused smile. "I suspect Colonel Sheppard thinks if you can survive Rodney, you can survive anything, lieutenant," he told me lightly.

"Poor me," I joked, winking broadly at Beckett. He might've blushed, but it was hard to tell, since the wormhole activated behind me and cast a rippling blue light across his face. I gestured toward the stargate. "In and out, gentlemen -- piece of cake."

Famous last words.

***

_III. Balcony_

It's amazing how much nervous activity there is around the city in times of crisis. Everyone seems determined to keep busy, to avoid thinking about the latest Catastrophe Of The Week. And considering less than forty-eight hours ago we had a Wraith contingent inside the city, feeding us misinformation and hacking our systems, there was suddenly an awful lot of nervous activity.

Except in the infirmary, that is. I'd already checked, and Carson was nowhere to be found. Nor was he in his quarters, and I'd even checked Dr. Weir's office, just in case he'd been called in again about the retrovirus dispersal schematics. No such luck.

Instead, I found him out on one of the balconies, in the North Tower, staring out at the ocean -- or possibly the night sky, it was hard to tell in the darkness. He'd mentioned once that he sometimes came up here to think. He could smell the ocean and feel the wind on his face, and it reminded him of home. Given the hysteria down in the city proper, Carson probably wasn't out here just to sniff at the sea.

The news from the _Daedalus_ hadn't been good; serious damage sustained during an altercation with **both** hive ships, target and friendly -- so much for that so-called 'alliance'. Rodney and Ronon never activated their transceivers, so for all we knew, they were still on the hive ship when it fled through hyperspace. Worse, Colonel Sheppard's X302 had just -- vanished.

And given the information Zelenka had determined the Wraith leeched from our systems? There was a good chance the Wraith were headed straight back to Earth.

Carson knew Sheppard better than I did. Ronon, too -- he'd had to dig _something_ out of Ronon on at least two occasions. And despite my own bizarre history with Rodney, Carson knew him better, too. The fact that all three of them were now missing essentially because of his retrovirus couldn't be sitting well with him right now.

Not to mention the fact that if the Wraith _were_ heading for Earth, there wasn't really all that much we could do about it, except alert the SGC and pray for the best. Everyone we'd left behind on Earth, relegated to Wraith food just because we'd been outmaneuvered.

It wasn't sitting well with me, either, come to think about it.

Carson always did shoulder more than his share of the blame, though. Otherwise he wouldn't be out here on this balcony, removed from human contact, staring at the sky. Somewhere among those stars, there were two Wraith hive ships heading for the Milky Way, and very possibly three Atlantis team members sitting in stasis cocoons for a mid-trip snack.

What am I supposed to say to him, anyway? 'It's not your fault, Carson?' 'I'm sure they'll be fine, Carson?' 'Give them a week and McKay'll drive them so nuts they'll bring him back to get him out of their hair, Carson?'

So I didn't say anything. I just walked up beside him, looped one arm around his waist, and rested my chin on his shoulder -- and stared out at the night sky with him, trying to see what he saw.

***

_IV. Mess_

I blame Katie Brown entirely.

If she hadn't insisted on telling me about the botany department's successes with approximating Earth foods with Pegasus galaxy plants, I never would've gotten a craving for a peanut butter sandwich. Despite the fact that Atlantean 'peanut butter' tasted more like hazelnuts than peanuts, but that's beside the point.

Come to think of it, the mess hall staff should share a bit of the blame. They insist on leaving the mess open all night for industrious individuals who need a late caffeine fix, or a midnight snack.

And Carson is probably just as guilty, really, since he beat me there. I found him already in the mess, surrounded by reports and medical journals, laptop on the table in front of him, and a cup of his favorite tea growing colder by the minute.

So really, it's not my fault that I found myself perched on Carson's lap, feeding him bits of my not-quite-peanut-butter sandwich, and trying to distract him from his work at 3am.

"Your face will stick like that," I told him solemnly, tearing off another bite as he squinted at his laptop.

"Too late, lass," he replied, not even looking at me.

"You're going to ruin your eyesight," I added.

"That’s what optometry is for, love," he countered.

"You've got an optometrist on staff?" I asked.

"No, but I'm sure I could pick up another hobby. Genetics research, ER medicine, intergalactic pest control -- the nurses mentioned we need a gynecologist--"

"I don't think so," I broke in, shooting him a disapproving look. He grinned slightly, but didn't stop reading whatever was so important on his screen.

"If you ruin your eyesight, you'll have to get glasses," I continued, ignoring his teasing. "I bet it'd be cute."

"Cute?" Carson echoed, and actually shot me a startled look at that.

I smiled innocently. "Wire-frames. The kind that won't stay on your nose, so you have to keep pushing them back, like Radek." I tapped one finger teasingly on his nose. "Emphasize those big blue eyes."

"I don't need glasses yet, love," Carson said, amused.

"Not _yet_ ," I told him. "Keep squinting at your laptop, though, and ignoring me completely. Payback's a bitch, Beckett."

"You're in my _lap_ , Laura," Carson pointed out. "And you keep feeding me that – what is that, anyway?"

"Pseudo-peanut-butter on wheat," I said smugly, and held up another bite of my sandwich for him. "And I'm _sharing_. Demonstrating my affection through food. Quit complaining."

"Oh, I'm not complaining -- share away," Carson protested. I popped the bite into his mouth, and he nipped lightly at my fingers, wrapped his arms around my waist, and settled me against his shoulder. "Give me half an hour to finish this and then you can distract me all you like," he whispered.

"Promise?"

"Aye, promise," Carson chuckled. "Just not in the middle of the mess, all right?"

"Deal," I agreed happily. "The tables are too hard, anyway."

I really shouldn't enjoy making him blush like that.

***

_V. Bedroom_

"Tell me a story, Carson."

I could feel his smile against the back of my neck, and the vibration of his laughter in his chest. "A bit old for bedtime stories, aren't you, love?"

"Nope," I insisted. "Never too old. Besides, I can't sleep, and you tell the best stories."

I was buttering him up, and judging from the soft snort in my ear, he knew it. I tilted my head slightly against my pillow, fixing one wide eye on him over my shoulder.

"Pleeeeeease?"

He chuckled again, and wrapped his arms tighter around my waist. "Once upon a time, there was a lovely princess that lived in a floating city in the middle of the ocean. She was very beautiful, but also very capable, and it was generally accepted by everyone in the city that she could kick just about any of the men’s arses if they looked at her crossways."

"I hope you're talking about me and not Teyla," I said solemnly. "Because I get jealous easily."

"Hush, lass," Carson scolded. "Or don't you want to hear about the princess's adventures exploring the city and the worlds beyond?"

"Adventures are good," I conceded. "As long as she gets the prince in the end, at least."

"Oh, aye," Carson agreed. "Wouldn't have it any other way. After lots of hardships and challenges, of course -- all of which she manages to overcome brilliantly, without so much as breaking a nail."

"Of course," I sniffed smugly. "Bring on the space vampires and evil mad scientists, she can handle it."

Carson chuckled, and pressed a soft kiss to the back of my neck. "Listen to you, so blasé. Quite a far cry from when you first arrived -- I told you you'd get used to it all eventually, didn't I?"

It took me a moment to put my finger on what he meant, and I turned slightly in Carson's arms, surprised. "What?"

"When I first met you, I told you you'd get used to the insanity," Carson clarified. "What, you don't remember?"

"Of course I remember," I protested. "I just didn't think _you_ would."

"Why wouldn't I?" he asked, puzzled.

"Oh, let's see: because you were patching up half the city after the Wraith siege, _and_ greeting every single new face from the _Daedalus_. Not to mention you probably hadn't slept at all in a week," I told him wryly.

Carson reached up to brush a stray lock of hair back from my face. "I have an excellent memory for lovely young women with sharp senses of humor," he assured me.

"Just as long as you remember that this one doesn't share well," I chuckled, and settled myself back in his embrace again. "Now, finish my story, please," I commanded as regally as I could manage.

***

It couldn't have been more than a couple of hours later when I woke with a start, Carson's arm still looped loosely around my ribcage. His breathing was slow and even, but it wasn't Carson who had jerked me out of a sound sleep.

I blinked, going slightly cross-eyed as I focused on the pair of wide, innocent blue eyes not six inches from my own, peering seriously at me from the edge of the bed.

"Mommy?" the little girl fretted tearfully. "Rupert can't sleep."”

I sighed, and held out my arms. With Rupert the teddy bear in tow, she scrambled onto the bed, and curled up between me and Carson. He stirred, and lifted his own head to murmur at her sleepily.

"If Rupert asks very nicely, maybe Daddy will tell him a story," I whispered to her solemnly, and tucked her pale blond head under my chin as I gave Carson a slow, impish wink.

He _did_ tell the best stories, after all.

***

**Author's Note:**

> 


End file.
